When I'm banging on the dashboard

The tempo of the game was constantly changing, it was like a song of highs and lows: sweetness, and near predatory desire.  

As he stepped past her, his head turned to her rear.  Whiskers brushing across her haunches while he momentary took in her scent. In the moment where he took a step away from her she was half facing his rear, he gave up the notion of trying to hide what he wanted now. 

The cat began to circle her, displaying his grace and strength with slow sweeping strides.  Calculating,  he was discerning the best way to move in for the final kill.

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 Perhaps disgust should have stopped her, or the possibility of him changing his mind and nailing his teeth into the back of her skull. It would have been a fascinating end to her life, and thus it no longer scared her. She fantasized briefly about the fury he would bring, should he kill her. She wondered if the pain would be as delicious as the overwhelming testosterone she drank in now.
 She learned then, when she saw his excitement, that she did not want to turn back. She had half-expected herself to turn on him and accuse him of being the architect. Surprising even herself, Valmúa found a dark part of her. It had been waiting at the edges.
 Reckless abandonment had long been her forte, but this twisted crime of nature was beyond such trifles. Gera það — Do it, she thought. But she was not a woman to wait for things to happen — she had been bred from the blazes of fury and fearlessness. As he circled, her snarl fell away into the gaze of a vixen. She lurched forward and slid beneath him, abruptly repeating her earlier movement of pushing her body against his belly and her head against his chin. This time, she did not move out from under him.

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This copper woman had so precisely played to his tempo, striking every note with flawless cadence.  But, that wasn't the perfect analogy.  There where strings he plucked within her as well.  It was only a matter of time until this song had to come to its crescendo.   
 

The metaphorical dance they had played, had made itself manifest as he circled the object of his desire.  Her snarling meant little to him, another note in the song, adding to his own fire. His display must have moved something in her as the last of her veiled resistance washed away.  Even the feline knew the expression.

Boldly, his quarry came to him returning to her previous position under his chin.  Like the last time a twang of energy traveled the length of the beast's spine.  It was instinctual, the energy would demand he seize her by the neck. With a break in the cadence he snarled viciously, while his head lurched forward, seizing the scruff of the vixen beneath him.  This time the cat would not let go soon; not until their dance had come to an end.  As the sun fell, he would lower himself to her and finish this dance of life and death in the best way a man and a woman could devise.

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 The fire burned brightly. They cut into a path that was never meant to be walked. There was no rationality or reason to it. Neither was desperate, and neither rejected. Valmúa's obsession with power had culminated in this, a sultry and terrible dance between two predators designed to be enemies. She pressed her neck against his jaw, no longer confused and knowing well that this was not play.
 She felt her scruff pulled. This had happened to her before, but not by a four-hundred pound animal. All she could do was gasp.
 Scarlet light poured across them in their sin. Forever would she remember his grip, his weight, the harshness with which he held her. She felt each of his paws beside her. Heat. Weight. Terrible beauty.
 Pain.
 When their bizarre courtship was complete, Valmúa, as usual, was first to speak, sliding out from under him. “I am your prinsessa — princess — call on me whenever you want.” She said it bluntly, but it was clear her heart still raced and her body was in a half-panicked state. The real world started to invade her thoughts as she tried to figure out whether she should hide her scent from her pack.

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The lord of these woods sat contented, basking in the late afternoon glow of their strange union.  It was a rare occurrence that one would see a beast like him, so completely absorbed with the smaller lupine.  Time passing after the peak of their song was unclear, on one hand it seemed to whisk by and on the other it seemed to be at a stop.  Whatever gap of time their was, Kuhn spent silently with her, doting, grooming. 

After the passage of some blissful moment she began to shake from her own trance.  He made no effort to stop her.  The harsh life of the tundra goes on, but it was good that they could find some respite in each other.  He liked the sound of having a princes; his princess. "We will see each other again..." he said, partialy baring his teeth in humor, as if to play on the absurdity of their strange courtship. 

He could see her panic once again rise, but it wasn't the same as before, it wasn't towards him, he made no display of aggression.  He eyed her curiously, ears fixed.
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 The fur on most of her body was well-groomed at the end of it all. Expertly combed and warm, it had been a strange hole in time that separated their courtship from reality. There would be no way to wash herself of his scent — it was too strong. 
 Never had she given herself to someone as completely. Normally, it was her taking what she wanted and convincing her partner that they were taking what they wanted. Normally she didn't care what they thought at the end. This was different.
 Despite her uncertainty with how to deal with her pack, she felt no shame or guilt. She wanted to be his prinsessa, and that had never happened before. She did not understand it fully. He bared his teeth at her. She grinned.
 Before she left him, she made a point of pressing her forehead to his. It was a decidedly feline gesture. She marked it with a nip to his cheek. “We will,” Valmúa confirmed, still able to taste his scent on her tongue. She moved it around in her mouth, inspired by his decadence, by his unknown. Pulling back, she left him then to his domain, coated in his everything, delighting in it every step of the way back to her mountain.

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